Human Born
by SJ Holmes
Summary: Cassandra was born human and grew up inside the stomping grounds of Chicago's Human Brigade. Now, her family history is coming to light in the worst way possible. Can she learn to accept herself as she is?
1. Chapter 1

Shadowrun: Human Born

Chapter One

Cassandra had a skip in her step as she walked home. Other residents of the neighborhood smiled and waved at her as she went past. Most of the women were in their gardens, tending to their vegetables. Last winter had been hard on their little part of the Human Brigade Territory, and they were doing everything they could to make sure it didn't happen again.

As she approached her house, she saw that her mother wasn't in the front yard. Perhaps she was at a neighbor's house. Cassandra knew that her news could wait, but she was just so excited about it. She had a date, her first ever date!

She went inside and grabbed a piece of bread. It was still warm, so her mom hadn't left too long ago. She munched on it as she went upstairs. She by-passed her room and continued to the third floor of the house. She had to pick out something to wear and she knew that her mom had some pretty neat dresses stored in the trunks.

She didn't bother with the light; the bare bulb didn't really help and was just a drain on energy.

She opened the closest trunk, just across from the stairs, and began to rifle through the contents, the piece of bread held firmly in her mouth. She found some blouse and skirt combinations that would look nice, but they weren't quite what she was looking for. A door shut on the first floor, and Cassandra could hear her mom calling her name.

She took the piece of bread out of her mouth and answered, "In the attic!"

She turned to continue her search, but a sharp pain in her arms stopped her short. Cassandra looked down at them, confused. She hadn't done any heavy lifting today. As she watched, the skin and muscle on her arms rippled, like there were snakes or insects crawling up her limbs. She could _feel_ her muscles stretching. The pain spread from her arms to her torso, legs, and mouth. Even her ears hurt. She screamed as it became too much to bear. Her body slammed against the floor. She didn't even realize she had been falling.

When the pain finally stopped, it took her a few moments to realize that it wasn't there anymore. She opened her eyes and stared at her mother's feet for a moment. She slowly rose to a sitting position.

Her mother screamed, startling Cassandra and making her jump. She stared up at her mother's horrified face. What was going on? Why was her mother staring at her like that?

"No, no, no, no! You weren't supposed to be like my family!" Nichole shrieked.

Cassandra just continued to stare dumbly. Her mother didn't have any other family, at least not that she spoke about. Nichole reached out and slapped Cassandra across the face before she ran down the stairs.

"Kevin! Kevin, get your gun!"

Cassandra held her hand up to where her mother had hit her. Her mother had never slapped her before, not like that. Tears stung her eyes as another wave of pain wracked her body. She fell again. What was happening? Why had her mother been so afraid? The pain was gone, but she didn't get up.

Sobs wracked her body as her father's footfalls thundered through the house. She could hear someone whispering to her, urging her to get up. But the pain, what if the pain came back?

Embrace it, the voice said. Use it, channel it. It means you are still alive.

He was on the floor below her. Cassandra lurched to her feet and staggered to the nearest window. She looked at it dubiously. It had been painted shut years before and no one had been able to open it. It was the same with all of the attic windows. She undid the lock and started lifting. It wouldn't budge. She could hear her father fumbling with the bullets for the gun. Her breathing quickened as she shoved harder against the frame. Another wave of pain surged through her body, but with it came a sense of strength.

The window wiggled in its tracks.

That small movement was enough to give her hope. She shoved harder, banging the heel of her palm into the frame. Finally, the paint cracked and chipped away. Cassandra sighed in relief as she fought it the rest of the way open, the pain subsiding from her limbs.

She poked her head out and looked down, three stories down. The fall wouldn't kill her, but she would be hurting from it. Another wave of the pain. She cried out as she fell against the window. She caught a glimpse of her arms. They looked odd, tinged a slight blue. But that only happened when someone was suffocating or freezing.

The door to the attic burst open, distracting her from her thoughts.

Cassandra looked back. In a matter of seconds, her father was standing at the top of the stairs, looking down the barrel of his shotgun at her. Nichole was standing behind him. Cassandra could see her mother shaking, her face a mask of outrage and fear.

There was no more time to think about it. Cassandra dived out of the window, preparing to roll when she hit the ground. She let herself remain loose, knowing that tightening her muscles would only make the landing worse, not better, and hoping the agony in her body would mask whatever happened when she hit the ground.

Time seemed to slow as she fell. The ground should have been coming at her so much faster. Finally, she felt the first hint of impact and tucked her head as she rolled onto her back and then back up to her feet. It had been too easy, the landing not nearly as hard as it should have been. The voice was there again, telling her to run. Don't think, just run.

The ground next to her feet exploded, sending dirt showering down on her. Cassandra screamed as she flinched away. Her father was at the window, taking aim for the next shot. Not knowing what else to do, she listened to the voice. She ran from their back yard and around to the front of the house.

The closest exit was three miles away, but the wall that surrounded their community was only half a mile. She hoped that whatever miracle had saved her from the pain of the fall would get her over the wall. She ran down the street, heading east.

People stopped as she went by, staring at her in stunned silence.

"Stop her!" Kevin yelled from the front door. "She's done something to Cassandra!"

She had to fight back tears, fight back the urge to yell out, "I'm Cassandra! Me! I'm your daughter!" She had to conserve her energy. Tears would only block her vision from possible dangers. More pain, this time in her legs. She stumbled, vocalizing her agony, but didn't stop.

She could hear more people yelling behind her. Her neighbors and friends had joined in the chase. The shouting got the attention of those ahead of them. She skidded to a stop as a line of people came at her from the east. She looked to the group behind her. They slowed as they approached.

Cassandra's mind raced as she tried to find an escape. The group in the east had blocked off the wall. To the north, the voice said. Go north.

She looked at the house on the north. It was one of the abandoned ones, and one that had a tree right next to the north-eastern corner of the wall.

The jeering groups were getting closer. She could see their eyes twinkle with excitement. Some had baseball bats, others had picked up branches and whatever else they could find. She took a deep breath as the two groups closed in on her. Then, she darted into the northern house.

The inside of it had been gutted, anything reusable taken out. There were holes in some of the walls, giving her a clear track for the back of the house. She ran, diving through the smaller holes like they were twice as big. She could hear the others howling through the house behind her. None of them were as agile as her.

She was behind the house, the tree just a few yards away. She sprinted for it, leaping for the lower branches. She thought she might fall short, or not be able to jump high enough, but she easily grabbed the lowest branch and swung herself up onto it.

She scrambled up through the tree. The crowd had gathered below, throwing their improvised weapons at her as they shouted. She was level with the top of the wall. She jumped the short distance between tree and concrete. There was nothing to climb down the other side. She couldn't run along the top of the wall, they would pick her off with a gun. She would have to jump.

She scanned the street below her. It was cracked, ruined from lack of care. Debris and rubble were piled underneath her. It wouldn't be a pretty landing on grass like last time. A branch struck her in the back of her head, making the decision for her. She started to fall towards the street, and there wasn't time to correct her landing posture.

Just like with the house, time seemed to stop. Her fall slowed down and when she landed, it was gently. She could feel herself almost ease onto the rubble pile. She took a second to marvel at how that was possible, but a shot rang out from behind the wall. They were alerting the perimeter guard.

Cassandra scrambled to her feet and started running. She didn't know where she was going, she didn't care. She just had to get away from the Human Brigade, her home. She lost track of time. Her limbs started to ache and the excruciating pains were becoming more frequent and lasting longer. But she didn't stop. She couldn't. She ran down streets at random, dodging into alleys if she thought anyone had seen her.

Finally, after what felt an eternity, she slowed down in an alley. The sky was getting dark and she was exhausted. Her vision blurred in and out as she wove down the back way. The garbage on the street beckoned to her, offering her a soft place to rest her head.

She gave in and collapsed amongst food wrappers and various other pieces of trash. She lay there for a moment, then heard the very distinct growl of a hound. Her blurry eyes could make out the red ones of a hell hound stalking towards her. There were two more behind it.

Cassandra tried to get up, to move, but she was too tired. She had just run a marathon and felt like it. The hounds bared their teeth as they closed in on their prey. She closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable. Maybe it was for the best. At least the pain would end.

Blasts resounded through the alley. Something hot and sticky splattered across her face. She opened her eyes. The hell hounds were gone. A couple of men stood over her, their tusks gleaming brightly against the dark tattoos on their faces.

"Hey, kid, you okay?" one of them asked. It sounded like he was at the end of a very long tunnel.

"Man, she looks like hell. We should take her back to Mama."

The other man grunted as he picked her up. She tried to protest, but her cry came out as a weak moan. Everything was getting fuzzy as they carried her down the alley. The last thing she saw was someone opening a van door.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Cassandra woke to a drum line performing in her head. She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her palms against them as the shock of pain died to a dull roar. Her body was sore, sharp pains shooting through her at unpredictable intervals.

She opened her eyes, slowly this time, and tried to figure out where she was.

She was lying on a bed with a lumpy mattress, the covers torn and shabby. The frame creaked and squealed in protest when she moved, aggravating her throbbing head. There was a draft, which looked to be coming from the window across from her. It had a musty curtain across it that swayed gently as the breeze blew it.

The walls were covered in peeling paint. In the dim light, she couldn't tell if it was gray or some other color. She sat up, slowly, and placed her bare feet on the wooden floor. She was surprised at how… clean it felt, like it had been freshly waxed only a few days ago.

Pain pierced through her back, surprising her so much that she cried as she fell back into the bed.

The door, which was at the foot of the bed, burst open and someone hurried in. The pain continued, making her nauseous. A soft hand smoothed her hair away from her face as the person crooned sweetly to her.

"Hush, now, child. It will only last for a little bit," the voice assured her. It was feminine, elderly, like a little old lady.

Sweat beaded on her forehead and her body shook as she fought to breathe through the pain. The old woman held something up to Cassandra's lips as her other hand held up her head. She could feel moisture and realized it was water. She hadn't realized how thirsty she was.

Cassandra gulped the water greedily until the old woman took it away. Her head nestled back into the pillow, the pain subsiding.

"It's a little trick I learned with three of my children. Have to stay hydrated during the change, makes it hurt a little less. You just rest now, dear. This should be over in another day or two."

"How… how long?" it was a struggle to talk, but she had to know. Those words were all she could manage.

"Harley and Knuckles brought you here five days ago. You've been drifting in and out ever since. Now get some rest."

Cassandra nodded as she stopped fighting off sleep. Yes, rest. That sounded like a good idea.

A loud bang startled Cassandra awake. She curled up under her sheets as someone downstairs started yelling. Her father had found her. He had finally found her and was going to kill her!

She looked around the room for a place to hide. There was a second door not too far away. She jumped out of bed and ran to it. When she opened it up, it was a small closet. Footsteps creaked on the stairs. She got inside and closed the door, curly up in a small ball in the corner.

She rocked back and forth as she tried to stop crying. What would he do when he found her? Would he just shoot her, or torture her. She had been to some of the community gatherings held after a meta hunt. She sobbed even harder as she thought of what had been done to them.

The door to the bedroom opened. She clapped her hand over her mouth to muffle the sounds, fighting to slow her breathing. She listened as the steps echoed through the room.

"Theresa, she isn't in here!"

She wanted to sigh in relief. Whoever this man was, it wasn't her father.

Another person entered the room.

"She has to be. The watcher said she hasn't left the house, and I've been sitting outside her room the whole night, just in case she needed something." It was the woman who had spoken to her before. How long ago had that been?

The door burst open, letting light flood into the little closet. Cassandra looked up at the man standing there. His hair was a vibrant silver that cascaded to his shoulders, framing a lean, angular face. Almond shaped eyes looked down at her, an amazingly bright shade of blue against the black skin. There was something strange about his skin, though. She looked closer and gasped. It was fur.

She screamed at the top of her lungs. A dark elf, of all things! She lunged past him, ignoring the look of surprise on his face. He fell back as she darted out of the closet. Someone was standing in the door, blocking her escape.

She took a second to take in the build, trying to assess what kind of threat they were. It was a woman, a little taller than herself and with a stocky build. Her arms looked well muscled. Tusks jutted out of her mouth. Cassandra had no doubt that she wouldn't stand a chance in a fight against her.

She looked to her only other means of escape: the window. She ran over to it and threw the curtain back. A cat was sitting there, but it wasn't a normal cat. It seemed to glow and looked up at her with eyes that seemed to hold all the knowledge of the world.

"Where do you think you're going?" it purred.

She screamed as she fell back. Strong arms grabbed her and held her. She could feel the fur on them. She fought against the dark elf, kicking at his legs, but he wouldn't let go. She thrashed back and forth, trying to break his grip. He was just too strong for her.

She knew she was done for as he threw her on the bed. He was going to, going to, she couldn't even think of the awful things he would do before he killed her. She curled up and started crying. She wished he would get it over with quickly.

"Knuckles was right, she's a mess," the man growled from the doorway. "I don't think he realized how much of one, though. Get Natalie up here. Maybe she can get this girl to talk."

"Good idea," the woman agreed.

The door closed, leaving Cassandra alone in the room. She looked up at the window. The curtain had fallen across it. She didn't dare approach it again, fearing what the talking cat might do. She stayed curled up on the bed.

She forced her breathing to slow. Her heart was beating loudly in her chest. She closed her eyes and calmed her mind. They hadn't hurt her, but why?

She opened her eyes and sat up in the bed. She had to assess how much damage had been done. She looked down at her hands and stared.

They were bright blue. Somehow, in her panicked state, she hadn't noticed it earlier. Now she couldn't stop staring at them. She could feel the fear gripping her, but she fought it down. She lifted the sleeve of the dull gray sweater. The color continued up her arms. Everywhere she checked, it was blue skin. She put her hands to her face so she could cry into them, but the feel of the tusks jutting out of her mouth made her want to scream.

Cassandra felt something else, on her forehead. She explored the hard protrusions with her hands. There were two, one on each side. They curled up and back, curving back around to come to a point beneath her ears. Horns, she had horns. She really had turned into a demon.

The door opened. Soft steps tread into the room. Cassandra didn't even look up as the door closed, numb with the shock of her discovery. She could hear someone settling against the wall on the other side. The sicko was probably just waiting his turn.

Table legs snapped into place. Cassandra finally looked up at the person who had come in. A girl, about her age, was setting up a small folding table. Her hair was a deep red and held back in a braid. Her deep brown eyes were slightly slanted, suggesting Asian ancestry. Her face was soft and round with freckles dotting her cheeks. There were no tusks, no pointed ears. This girl was human.

"Are you a prisoner, too?" Cassandra asked as the girl put a tray on the table.

She looked up and smiled at Cassandra. "Whatever gave you that silly idea?"

Cassandra was shocked by the answer. "But, there's a dark elf and an ork. They enslave the ones they don't kill."

The girl laughed like it was the craziest thing she had ever heard. "Don't be ridiculous. Those are my grandma and grandpa!"

Cassandra could only stare. "Orks and elves can't have human relatives."

The girl just laughed again. "Sure they can. My dad was born human, then goblinized just like you did. My mom's a dwarf. I've got two brothers that are dwarves and an elven sister. Mom's pregnant again. Grandma says it's going to be twins!"

Cassandra continued to stare.

"Oh, I've been babbling on and haven't introduced myself! I'm Natalie."

The girl obviously expected a response of some sort. "Cassandra," was all that she got.

She wasn't sure how much she could trust this Natalie girl. She had obviously been brainwashed into thinking that they were one big happy family.

"Well, Cassandra, I've brought you some food. Grandma says that goblinization takes a lot of energy. You must be starving!"

Cassandra started to say no, she wasn't, but her stomach rebelled with a very loud grumble.

Natalie smiled as she took the lid off of the tray. There was bread, freshly baked, with a little bit of butter. Real butter. Next to it were strips of bacon. Cassandra didn't know how she had missed the smell of it, or how they had gotten the meat.

"It's not much, but definitely better than nothing."

She uncurled herself and scooted forward on the little day bed. She sniffed it for a moment, then tentatively reached out and took the bread. It smelled just like what her mother baked.

Cassandra took a bite, moaning as the taste exploded in her mouth. It was better than what her mother made. The single bite made her realize just how hungry she was. She shoved the rest of the bread into her mouth and grabbed up the bacon, starting on it before she had finished chewing the bread.

Once Cassandra had finished chewing and swallowed everything, Natalie held out a glass of milk. Cassandra accepted it and gulped it down. She was still hungry, but was grateful that she had gotten something, at least.

With her small meal finished, Cassandra sat back on the bed and tried to look at anything but her skin.

"Grandma's downstairs making more. She wanted you to get something as soon as possible. We've only been able to give you broth while you changed. I guess I'd be pretty hungry, too, if I hadn't eaten anything in three weeks."

Cassandra stopped looking around the room and turned her gaze to Natalie.

"Three weeks?"

Natalie nodded as she started picking everything up off of the tray. "Grandma said that you were lucky. When she changed, it took her a month and a half, and she's just a baseline ork! Now, you should probably come downstairs and get some more food. You're all skin and bones."

She could smell more food cooking downstairs. It was the only thing that got her off of the bed. She helped Natalie carry the tray and table back downstairs. They passed several closed doors. One opened as they passed it.

Cassandra looked up at the person leaving the bathroom, but her reflection in the mirror caught her full attention. It was her face, but her eyes were bigger, almost menacing. The tusks she had seen at her home, but the bright blue skin and horns were new. She had felt the horns, but seeing them, a brilliant white against her dark hair, made them that much more real.

The man grunted as he shoved past her, but she barely noticed. She felt a hand on her shoulder. Cassandra tore her gaze away from her reflection and looked into Natalie's eyes. The girl offered her a comforting smile.

How could she smile?

Natalie pulled on her arm and Cassandra followed. She felt hollow inside as she was led into the kitchen. The ork woman who had been in her doorway was there, cooking over a stove. The kitchen was big compared to what they had at home. There was a frig humming next to the counters and a sink in the middle. There was a table against the wall opposite the stove. A plate of scrambled eggs had been set there.

"Go ahead and help yourself," the ork woman called over her shoulder. "I'll have some more bacon in a moment, too. Natalie, can you slice a couple more pieces of bread for her?"

Natalie had to shove Cassandra down into the chair. What game was this ork playing? She watched as more milk was set down in front of her, along with a couple pieces of buttered bread. Not as hungry as before, she ate more slowly. The freshly made bread and homemade butter were like an explosion of flavor in her mouth.

As she ate, she examined the walls. There were pictures, lots of pictures. The people in them, most of them weren't human. One of the faces caught her attention. Cassandra put down her piece of bread and went around the table to the picture. It looked like a family portrait.

The ork woman and dark elf man sat next to each other in the front row. There were several other arrayed around them, some were orks, some were elves, regular and dark. There was one human. Cassandra stopped breathing as she looked at that blank face.

There weren't many pictures at home, but one she had always loved was from her parent's wedding day. She could draw that picture perfectly in her sleep. Now, she was looking at her mother's face in the ork's kitchen.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Of all the tricks to play, this was the worst. They had read her mind and created an image of her mother, making it seem like she was family. Her eyes darted around the kitchen, searching for a weapon. There was a bread knife on the counter.

Cassandra looked over at the ork. She still had her back turned to Cassandra. Natalie was at the stove, too, talking to the ork. Cassandra slowly walked to the counter and picked up the knife with her right hand.

"Oh, did you want more bread?" Natalie asked, noticing Cassandra at the counter. She approached Cassandra and held her hand out for the knife. "Let me get that for you."

Cassandra waited until she was a little closer, then grabbed Natalie's hand and pulled the girl against herself. The knife was at Natalie's throat, pressed enough to give a message but not so hard as to break the skin.

"What the fuck do you think you're playing at?" Cassandra growled, her teeth gritted. She had had enough of the charade. "Did you seriously think that a picture of my mom would make me like you?"

The ork stared blankly at Cassandra.

Cassandra couldn't help scowling. Just as stupid as her father said they were. Cassandra pointed at the portrait with her left hand. "You're using your fucking mind tricks to make me see my mother in your sick little family portrait."

The ork looked at the picture. Cassandra thought she saw pain, sadness in the dull eyes. She knew it was a trick. Orks didn't have feelings.

The only sound in the room was Natalie's heavy breathing. Cassandra heard footsteps approaching the kitchen. She turned so that she was facing the doorway, Natalie in front of her. The dark elf walked in, his head down as he looked over a piece of paper in his hand.

"Theresa, I thought we took care of this," he grumbled, then looked up. His eyes went wide as he stared at the scene before him. "What the hell?"

He took a step forward.

"Don't come any closer!"

Cassandra tightened the blade against Natalie's throat. Natalie cried as Cassandra started to back towards the other wall. The dark elf stopped where he stood.

There was a door leading outside. Cassandra fumbled with the handle before finally getting it open. She pulled Natalie out with her. It was bright outside, the sun blinding against the bleached wood of the house.

Cassandra looked behind her to see where she was going. There was a small garden, and she could hear animals: chickens, cows, and pigs. That explained the food. She looked for a way out, but the yard seemed to be walled in every direction. She had backed herself into a corner.

She looked back at the door. The dark elf and ork were there, watching her.

Cassandra didn't know what to do. She was certain that those two could take her, and she had seen at least one other person in the house. This was it, this was the end. She took the knife away from Natalie's throat. The girl stumbled away, crying, into the waiting arms of the ork. Cassandra collapsed to the ground and closed her eyes.

When she opened her eyes, everything had changed. It was like some psycho kid had taken crayons to everything. She could make out basic shapes, but the colors… the colors were everywhere. Except for the building, it was dark and didn't seem to pulse like everything else.

"What's happening," she whispered, rising to her feet unsteadily. She still clutched the knife in her hand. "What did you do to me?"

Cassandra looked at the three people at the door. They were so bright, so bright against the darkness of the building.

"What did you do to me?"

One of them moved closer to her. Cassandra backed away, holding the knife out in front of her. The person stopped. Cassandra couldn't look at them, they were so bright. She turned her eyes up to the roof of the building.

"You're seeing the Astral plane," the ork explained. "Look at me."

Cassandra hesitantly turned her gaze to the bright shape of the ork.

"Good, good. Now, I want you to ask me questions that you know the answer to, simple questions. Watch me, see what my colors do."

Cassandra wasn't sure she could trust the ork, but she didn't know what else to do.

"What color is the sky?"

"Blue."

Nothing in the colors changed.

"Are you an ork?"

"Yes."

Nothing changed.

"He's a vampire," she pointed to indicate the dark elf.

"Yes."

The colors flickered, wavered for a moment.

"Natalie is an elf."

"Yes."

Again, the colors flickered.

"You have a base, now. You can tell when I'm lying. Ask me whatever you want."

Cassandra nodded and took a deep breath. There were so many questions, what to ask first?

"Who is the human in your family picture?"

"My daughter, Nichole." The colors stayed the same, no flickering.

Cassandra started shaking. The same face as her mother, the same name as her mother. "What am I?"

"You've goblinized into an Oni, a Japanese metavarient of orks." No flickering.

"Is there any way to change me back?"

There was a pause. "No."

No flickering.

Cassandra felt her legs give out beneath her. She closed her eyes as tears streamed down her cheeks. When she opened them, everything had returned to normal, besides being a little blurry. She looked down at her right arm, the bright blue skin seeming even brighter in the light. Sunlight glinted off of the blade she still held. Her gaze shifted from the blade to her left wrist and back again.

There was only one thing she could do. She was stuck, as a monster, with no hope of being human ever again. She could feel mucus escaping her nose. She sniffed it back in, hoping it would fill the emptiness that she felt. She took the rough blade and laid it against the skin of her left wrist.

She and her friends had made jokes about it: down the tracks, not across; play the slide trombone, not the violin. Stuff like that. Now, she was putting it to use. She put her full strength behind the blade as she dragged it down her arm.

A red line appeared behind the blade. She could feel the warmth of her blood as it rushed from her body. She was already starting to feel woozy. Her right hand dropped away, the grasp loosening and letting the knife fall. She felt herself leaning sideways. Everything was blurry, but still she could only see the blood gushing from the wound. Was it supposed to bleed that fast?

Her head hit something hard. She realized that she was on the ground, her arm bleeding out into the dirt. She could hear someone shouting something, and feel arms lifting her head up. She looked up, but couldn't make out details.

Then, there was only darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Light splashed across Cassandra's face, startling her from her sleep. She put her hand up to block the sun streaming in through the window. Someone was standing next to it, holding the curtain back. His back was turned to her, but she knew that it was someone she hadn't met before.

"Nice to see you back in the land of the living."

His voice was deep, commanding. He turned from the window and watched Cassandra. She opened her eyes enough to see. He was tall, almost looming in his height. He had broad shoulders, muscles rippling down his arms. His face was young, maybe in his early twenties. It was oval, but the jaw line strong. His eyes were like two pools of intense blue. They had a sparkle to them, a glint of intelligence and cunning.

Cassandra backed away from him, pressing herself against the back of the daybed. He seemed to be surrounded by an air of danger, menace. He lifted the right corner of his mouth up into a half-smile. Cassandra could only stare at him as she curled up. She could feel her body shaking. What was he going to do to her?

"I don't bite," he assured her. Then, as an afterthought, "Hard."

"Who are you?" she asked tentatively.

The half-smile was gone, replaced by a serious gaze. "I'm Joseph, but most people call me Red."

Cassandra cocked her head to one side. That was a funny thing to call someone. It wasn't even close to his name. She lowered her knees away from her body and leaned forward a little. "Why do they call you Red?"

This time, the left side of his mouth twitched up, just for a second. "Have you ever heard of shadow runners?"

Cassandra searched her memories, but the term had never come up. She shook her head, intrigued, now.

"Runners do the dirty work that certain people can't do themselves. That's what I do. When I'm working, I go by Red Dawn."

She tilted her head to the other side, now. "Why would you use a different name?"

"Because I don't want certain people to know my real name, or where I live. They might use that information against me."

Cassandra's face screwed up tight as she thought about it. It sounded dangerous, but exciting. She looked around the room. It was different from the one that she was in at the ork house, smaller and a little dingier. Perhaps he had saved her from them.

"Do runners save people from monsters?"

Red's eyes narrowed for a second, then he closed them and took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes, they looked sad. "Sometimes. That's why I'm here. Your family is paying me to help you."

Cassandra brightened up. Her father realized what had happened, they were going to find a way to turn her back to normal! She leaned her head back against the wall as tears started streaming down her face. Safe, she was finally safe.

"Thank you, Red. What do you need me to do?"

She would do anything he asked.

"Right now, you need to rest. You lost a lot of blood. I'll bring some food up for you. You just sit back, don't move around too much."

Cassandra nodded as Red left the room. She looked around a little more. There wasn't a whole lot in the room. A window across from the single bed, a bare bulb in the center of the ceiling, and a doorframe that led into a small closet. The walls were a plain beige color, the paint peeling in a few spots. She was in a lumpy bed covered by plain sheets. It did have a beautiful quilt on it. She examined it for a moment, taking in all of the colors.

Her fingers traced the edges of the squares and triangles that made up the pattern. They looked worn, like the quilt had been traced by several fingers before her. Some places seemed to be more faded than others. She focused on them, anything to keep from looking at her wrist.

The door opened, and Red entered with a plate of beef, mashed potatoes, and corn. It smelled delicious. He set it down in front of her, and she noticed that the meat was already cut. She looked down at her wrist, the bandage a blaring white against her blue skin. He probably wouldn't trust her with anything sharp.

She picked up the spoon and started mixing her corn in with the potatoes and gravy. Red just watched her as she ate. When she finished, he took the plate and started to leave the room. He stopped at the door.

"You need to learn control. I'm going to start teaching you hapkido. It will help. For now, get some rest."

He closed the door behind him. Cassandra laid down in the bed, fluffing the pillow. She tried laying on her side, but the horns made it uncomfortable. She rolled onto her back and looked up at the ceiling. There were old water spots in the corners. The light from the window was fading. How long had she been out?

A million thoughts buzzed through her head as she lay there. She wanted to see her parents, but knew that their reunion would have to wait until after she was normal again. She might loose control and try to kill them as it was.

Cassandra thought back to the events right before her suicide attempt. The ork woman had said that there was no way to change her back. It had been a trick all along. What had they wanted from her so badly that they would try to act normal, make her seem like family? She sighed heavily, realizing that she would never know.

She banished the random thoughts from her head as she settled down and closed her eyes. Sleep came easily, though it was riddled with strange dreams.

Cassandra was running down a long hallway, but it seemed she would never reach the door at the other end. Finally, after ages of trying to get to the door, she fell to the ground, exhausted. The door opened and tall woman with hair as black as midnight strode towards Cassandra. Her eyes were bright green, though they seemed like bottomless pits.

_"At last I have found you, my daughter." It was like a whisper on the wind, though the words sounded like they were spoken right into Cassandra's ears. Her blood red lips did not move._

_ Cassandra could not move, could not speak. The woman drifted closer, her dark clothing and hair floating around her as though she were in water. She reached Cassandra and sat down next to her. Her pale arms encircled the girl, and she held the horned head to her shoulder._

_ "All will be well, now. You are as you were meant to be."_

_ "I don't understand," Cassandra whispered, finally finding her voice. "I'm a monster!"_

_ "No, dear one. You are a creature of pure beauty. Look into your heart, clear your mind, and you will see that it is the truth."_

_ Cassandra started crying. "I want my mom!"_

"Cry not, my daughter, for I am here."

Cassandra woke with a start.

There was a rooster crowing outside, then the sound of something hitting it. It cawed in protest as something else hit it. Shortly after that, someone started yelling and a dog was barking. Cassandra curled up under the blankets, covering her ears with her hands, until the commotion died down.

Once the morning air was calm, again, she sat up and slowly placed her feet on the floor. The wood was chilly against her bare skin. She stood, steadying herself as she wobbled, and walked to the door. She opened it and poked her head out in the hallway, listening.

There was someone moving around downstairs, and something was cooking. Cassandra breathed in, trying to figure out what the delicious aroma was, but to no avail. She stepped into the hallway, examining it. There were two other doors. The one right across from her was shut tight while the other, on the wall between them, opened into a bathroom.

Cassandra went down the stairs, slowly, crouching before she could be seen by whoever was on the first floor. She listened closely. The person was in another room. Cassandra continued down the stairs, which ended at the front doorway. To her right was a small living room. On the left was a small office. The person was in a room behind the office.

She crept through the office to the open door on the other side. She peeked in, and saw that it was the kitchen. Red was at the stove, his back to the door. Cassandra looked around the kitchen. It was small, about the size of the one at home, with sparse furnishings. The table was only meant for two people, three at most, and was currently set for one. There was already food in the bowl, steam rising from it.

"Go ahead and have a seat," Red instructed, still with his back to her. "It's best to eat this warm."

Cassandra nodded and moved to the small table. As she sat, she examined the contents of the bowl. It was dark brown with white swirled in, about the consistency of soup. She leaned in to sniff it. It did smell good. She picked up the spoon and tentatively lifted a bite towards her mouth, stopping long enough to blow on it.

She didn't have to chew it, just kind of mush it around to make sure not too much went down at once. The texture was interesting, and the taste was somehow familiar.

"It's delicious. What is it?"

"Malt-o-meal. Your mom used to let me have it for supper."

Cassandra stopped, the next bite half-way to her mouth. She can't have heard him right. "You used to know my mom?"

Red turned from the stove, carrying his own bowl of breakfast. He didn't say anything at first. He just sat down and started eating. Cassandra waited.

"Eat your breakfast before it gets cold," he chided her.

Cassandra obeyed, hoping that it would make him answer her question. However, he still hadn't said anything else by the time she finished. So she sat across the table, watching him eat. Still, he was silent. She started tapping her fingers against the chair, her legs fidgeting as she grew restless.

Red finished his food and took all the dishes to the sink. Still, nothing. He started washing them. Not knowing what else to do, Cassandra joined him at the sink and picked up a drying cloth. Since she didn't know where the dishes went, she just set them on the counter when they were dry.

"I trust you slept well?" he finally asked.

Cassandra gave him a side-long look. He was avoiding her question. "I had some weird dreams, but otherwise it was a nice night."

Red paused for a second, shooting a quick glance at her, before returning to scrubbing the pan. "What kind of dreams?"

Since she could only remember the one, she described it to him. When she finished, he nodded his head thoughtfully. They slipped back into the uncomfortable silence until all of the dishes were done.

"What kind of physical training have you done?"

Cassandra wanted to pout. He obviously wasn't going to mention anything else about her mother. She wanted to know more, but she didn't want to upset him. Red was the only one who could get her back to normal.

She took a deep breath. "I'm really good at gymnastics, but that's about all I do, sports-wise."

"No martial arts?"

Cassandra scrunched up her nose at that. "My dad says that only boys should know how to fight."

"What do you think?"

She bit her lip. She had seen some of the action flicks. The fight scenes were incredible. The actors had moved with such grace and power… She shook her head. Such things were not for girls.

"I haven't really thought about it," she lied, looking away from his intense gaze. She didn't want her father knowing that she had watched the old movies. He wouldn't approve.

Red scoffed, a smirk coming across his face. He drained the water and grabbed the towel from her to dry his hands. After he threw it into the sink, he started towards the office. Cassandra followed, not knowing what else to do. They went into the living room and out a back door.

The outside of the house looked as dismal as the inside. There was a high fence all around, so she couldn't see what neighborhood they were in. There were cellar doors under the kitchen window. Red opened them and waited for Cassandra to enter.

She was slow to go down, the steps were old and crumbling in some spots. Moss slicked the walls. Something hit her in the face. She batted it out of the way, thinking it was a spider web. When it kept swinging at her, she realized that it was a string. She pulled it and a bare bulb flickered on.

There was a black door in front of her. Red shimmied past in the tight quarters and unlocked it. Here it was quite different from the rest of the house.

The floor was finished in a beautiful light wood with matching paneling on the walls. The center of the space was covered in blue padding. Along the walls hung several decorations, including weapons of every flavor.

It wasn't the swords that drew her attention, however, it as a pair of large folding fans. Their fabric was black like obsidian and they were painted with the most beautiful flowers: pink, purple, red, and coral, all connected by intricate green vines. The frame was made of metal and they looked especially heavy.

Without realizing it, she had walked over to them and was staring. She started to reach out to touch them, but thought better of it. It wouldn't be polite.

"They were my mother's."

Cassandra jumped at the sudden sound of Red's voice behind her. She hadn't even heard him come up behind her. He didn't seem to notice, though. He was staring at the fans, as well.

"She could do the most beautiful dances with them. And when she fought, it was like watching one of her routines. I tried to learn how to use them, but I didn't have the same grace as her, kept tripping up and getting them tangled. Mom always said I was more likely to kill myself with the damned things than my enemy."

The look in his eyes, Cassandra couldn't think of words describe the depth of his pain. She looked back at the fans, trying to see them in battle. She had seen one movie that used them, but it had been ages since she watched that one.

"What happened to your mother?"

"She died as no warrior should, tortured for the amusement of others. Left to die with no dignity. We had to raid the enemy complex to recover her body and give her a proper burial."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know."

Red turned away from the wall and removed his shoes. Cassandra hesitated, wanting to comfort him but not knowing how. She bit her lip and looked down at her feet. She didn't have any shoes on.

Red stood up, bowing at the edge of the mat. There were flags and two plaques on the wall opposite of where the door was. Cassandra stood at the edge of the mat uncertainly. She bowed, then followed Red towards the center.

"First, we need to warm up, same as with your gymnastics."

Cassandra sighed in relief. She didn't need any instruction on how to do that. She went into her stretches, running in place to start the heart pumping, and doing a few crunches and sit ups for good measure. It felt good on her muscles, sore from the weeks of bed rest.

Once they were both limbered up, Red turned to her. "I want to see what you can do with your gymnastics. It will give me an idea of where to start."

Cassandra smiled as she quickly planned out a routine. In her mind, she even had music to go with it. Red went to the edge of the mat, bowed, and sat with his legs crossed in front of him.

Cassandra paced out the space that she had. It wasn't much, and the roof wasn't that high. She would have to be careful not to jump too high. Once comfortable with the space, she went to a corner and took a deep breath. She closed her eyes and lowered her head, focusing on what she would be doing.

In her mind, the song started up, a driving rock beat. Her head snapped up as her eyes opened. She took a running start and jumped, twisting and contorting her body as she flew. She was upside down, her head bare inches from the floor, as her legs swung over top her. She landed perfectly and launched into a series of cartwheels and flips. She ended one of them by sliding down into the splits, then swung the back leg around so that she twirled into a standing position. She knew she couldn't ignore rolls on a ground routine, so threw a few of those in between the flips.

The song ended as she finished off a twist, stuck the landing, and threw her arms up in the air. Her heart was pounding in her ears, the adrenaline rushing through her system.

There was no applause, only silence. Cassandra slowly lowered her arms and looked over at Red. His face was hidden behind his hands. It hadn't been perfect, but surely it wasn't that bad.

"Red?" she called tentatively.

His hands came away, and she saw the glint of wetness on his cheeks. He had been crying. Cassandra walked closer and kneeled in front of him.

"Did I do something wrong?" she asked, not able to hide the worry from her voice.

"No, no you were great," he assured her.

"Then why are you crying?" Cassandra scrunched her face up as she examined his face.

"Right then, watching you, it was like seeing my mother. She was just as graceful."

He smiled, though a little sadly. Cassandra lifted up the left corner of her lip. She could think of no better praise than that.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Days turned into weeks. Cassandra spent nearly every waking moment learning what she could from Red. At night, she had dreams of the dark haired woman. It was strange, because the woman felt more like a mother than her actual mother did. There was a love from the woman, the kind of love a mother should have for her daughter. There were no conditions.

Sometimes, Red would leave the house after a siren went off, advising Cassandra to stay inside. She didn't question him and stayed in the house, cleaning up after him. He would be gone for hours at a time. One day after he left, there had been no siren, she looked out the window at the beautiful sunshine. It was getting cramped inside the house. The only time she went outside was on the way down to the Do-jhang.

She peaked into the back yard. There was no sunlight there. She bit her lip as she looked out at the front yard, the warm rays begging her to come outside. Just once couldn't hurt, and it would only be for a few minutes. So she opened the door and stepped out into the sunlight.

Cassandra closed her eyes as she felt the warmth play across her skin. She could smell the crispness in the air. She opened her eyes and looked around. The few trees she could see were turning orange. It was already fall. She had spent an entire summer inside.

"It's about time."

Cassandra yelped as she turned to her right. Red was sitting in a rocking chair, watching her. She felt her cheeks turn red. She had been caught disobeying him.

"You realize I've been waiting all summer for you to come outside on your own?"

Cassandra smiled sheepishly as she lowered her head, her cheeks turning red. "Did you always wait here on the porch?"

"Hell no. Now come on, I need help getting groceries."

After that, Cassandra wasn't afraid to leave the house on her own. The neighborhood they were in was a little run down, more so than home, but the people seemed nice enough. She didn't interact with them, much, and they seemed intent to leave her be, as well.

When she looked in the mirror, she still cringed a little. She had started to listen to the dark haired woman, though, and began to find things she liked about her new body. She was stronger than before, much stronger. When they went shopping, not many people stared, mostly kids. Some of the clothing that she got went really well with her skin tone and she was able to wear colors that she couldn't have gotten away with before.

Red had taken to calling her Smurfette. She pretended to hate it, but the truth was that she kind of liked it.

At night, waiting to fall asleep, she no longer wondered how he would make her human, again. She wondered what things the dark haired woman would teach her in her dreams. She had never thought to ask the woman her name. She always meant to, but seemed to forget when they met.

More weeks went by. She was getting much more comfortable with their routine: practice in the morning and chores in the afternoon. Red would still disappear for hours at a time on some days, but Cassandra wasn't worried about it anymore. It was normal.

It was starting to get chilly outside. Cassandra didn't cringe when she looked in the mirror. She had gotten used to the image. The first morning it happened, she thought that she should have felt shocked, but she didn't. It worried her that she was okay with it.

At breakfast, she didn't really touch her pancakes. Red took notice of it.

"What, not good enough this morning?"

Cassandra didn't say anything for a couple of seconds, just pushed her food around the plate. "Something's wrong with me."

Red's head cocked to one side. "What makes you say that?"

Another pause. "I looked in the mirror, and I accepted what I saw. I don't… I don't care that I'm not human." The words sounded strange, but true. "Does that mean that I'm okay with being a monster?"

A smile spread across Red's face. "Have you craved human flesh?"

Cassandra shook her head.

"Felt the uncontrollable urge to rip my throat out?"

Cassandra laughed and smiled. She had, occasionally, but that was only during difficult lessons. She shook her head.

"What do you feel?"

She had to stop and think about that. She looked back over the last few months. She had been so busy, she hadn't had time to think about it. Now, looking inward, there was peace, and curiosity at what had made her hate herself before.

"I'm content. Why?"

"Because you've finally accepted who you are and accepted what is normal for you."

Cassandra contemplated that. He was right. But there was still one issue at hand.

"My parents won't accept this. They'll be mad that you didn't do what they hired you to do."

"I don't work for your parents."

"But, you said…"

"I said your family hired me. Theresa and Henry, the ork and night elf, trusted me because your mother used to baby sit me."

Cassandra sat back in her chair. She had been so horrible to them when they were just trying to help her. She was a monster, but not because of her appearance. She started to cry. Her family, who didn't care what she looked like, who didn't disown her just because she was different.

She could feel arms around her shoulder. Cassandra turned into the embrace and cried into Red's shoulder.

"I was so mean to them. Why would they still want to help me?"

"Because they love you. The day that Nichole disappeared, it was the worst day in their lives. Having her daughter come to them, it was like a miracle."

Cassandra pulled away enough to wipe the tears from her eyes. "Why did she disappear? If her parents loved her, why not come back?"

Red didn't say anything for a while, but squeezed her closer. She waited, wondering why he hesitated so much.

"I was about six at the time. Nichole wasn't too happy with things at home, it was getting too crowded for her. My mom needed someone to watch me at night so she could work, so she offered to let Nichole move in with us. She jumped on the chance. A couple of months later, one of her brothers came over with his friend, an ork that Nichole had a crush on. This friend wanted to take Nichole out and her brother offered to watch me for her. I don't know what happened exactly on the date, but Nichole never came home. The friend came back the next day, claiming that they had run into some rival gangers and she was killed. Said that her body had been thrown into the river."

"What do you mean claimed?"

Red gulped. "Your grandmother is one of the best telepaths in the Horde. She found out what really happened about a month later, after he had told his story a few times and they didn't match up. He had raped Nichole and left her for dead near Human Brigade territory. He tried running, but didn't make it very far. By the time your aunts, uncles, and grandfather were done with him, there wasn't anything left to bury."

Cassandra was shaking. Such a horrible thing to happen, and then her parents thinking she was dead so they didn't bother searching. No wonder her mother hated them so much. She must have thought they had abandoned her.

"I want to see them." Her voice was soft, but she was sure of it. "I want to see my family."

He smoothed down her hair. "Go get dressed. I'll take you there."

Cassandra hugged him before running up to her room. She had clothes strewn about the floor, most of it dirty. She looked into the closet at the few pieces that were actually clean. She picked out a white button-down shirt with a heart wrapped in thorns on the back, deciding on a blue plaid skirt and leggings with her knee high boots.

Cassandra set a record getting dressed. Red wasn't ready by the time she got downstairs. She pulled her coat out of the closet and waited on the porch, fidgeting. The sky was heavy with dark clouds, the air cold enough that it would probably come down as snow.

Red finally came out, locking the door behind himself. Cassandra wanted to run, but Red kept them at a slower walk. They didn't go very far, only a couple of blocks, actually. She stopped at the front of the house, looking over the large structure with the chain link fence to cordon off the front yard from the street.

Perhaps she had been too hasty in wanting to meet them. She started to back away, but Red took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Come on, Smurfette. They're waiting for you."

Cassandra took a deep breath, steadying herself. She took one step forward, then another. They were through the gate and approaching the door. It opened. Theresa was standing in the door, a worried, hopeful smile taking up her face.

Cassandra ran to her, breaking away from Red. Theresa's arms were wide, waiting for her. Cassandra jumped into the old ork's embrace. Her grandmother smelled of spices and chocolate, window cleaner and floor wax. Her muscular arms seemed a safe haven. How could she have thought this gentle woman to be a monster?

"I'm sorry, grandma," she choked into Theresa's ample bosom. "I'm so sorry!"

"Hush, hush, dear. It's in the past, now. You're safe, and that's all that matters."

Theresa pulled away and held Cassandra's chin in her hand. The old woman smiled through her tears as she examined the girl's face. "You look just like your mother. Come inside, come inside. I'll make us some hot chocolate."

Before they could head inside, a siren sounded. Theresa looked up and toward the north, where the sound seemed to be coming from. All of the houses around them seemed to jump to life. Children were rushed inside by suddenly armed adults. Theresa grabbed Cassandra's arm and started pulling her into the house.

"Red, stay there for a moment."

"What's going on?" Cassandra asked as she was dragged inside.

"Meta hunters," Theresa growled. She grabbed a sword from inside the doorway and went back outside. "Henry forgot this. Smack him for me when you give it to him."

"Will do, Mama. Do I need to send someone here?"

"No. Agnes is upstairs. She can't fight, but she can throw a few spells at 'em if they make it this far. Be careful."

Theresa came back inside, closing the door and bolting it. She leaned her forehead against the window and sighed. When she turned around, she gave a reassuring smile to Cassandra.

"No need to worry. The perimeter guard usually takes care of them before they make it this far in."

Still, Theresa did not leave her post at the door. They waited for what seemed an eternity, the grandfather clock in the living room ticking out the seconds. Cassandra became more and more anxious with each passing moment.

There were sounds outside, gunshots and shouting. Theresa swore under her breath in a language that Cassandra didn't recognize.

"Agnes, get to the window! They're coming this way!" she shouted at the top of her lungs. She turned to Cassandra. "You, get Natasha and get to the basement, now! She should be upstairs."

Cassandra reluctantly nodded her head and obeyed. She wanted to stay and help. Natasha was already running down the stairs. She stopped short when she saw Cassandra. The two girls stared at each other for a moment.

There was a gunshot on the street right outside the house. Both girls dove to the ground, covering their heads. After a few moments, they could hear scuffling outside. Cassandra got up and grabbed Natasha as she went.

"Where's the basement?" she asked as she dragged the other girl to her feet.

"Outside through the kitchen, then through the cellar doors."

They ran to the back of the house. Just as the reached the kitchen, the back door burst open. There was a human in tattered jeans and a grungy white T-shirt that said, "Thank God for Dead Metas," in blood red coloring. He smiled as he spotted the girls, pointing a gun at them.

Natasha only stared as it fired. Cassandra, who was behind her cousin, yelled and pulled the younger girl behind her. She remembered what the dark haired woman had taught her. As she pulled Natasha away, she raised her other hand in front of her.

The air shimmered as a translucent rainbow wall appeared before them. The bullets bounced off harmlessly. She knew it would last long if he kept firing. With Natasha now safely behind her, she raised her other hand and called to the magic within her. He continued to fire as she built up the energy necessary. Then, there was a flash as lightning crackled through the air, striking the man in the chest. He flew backwards, his shirt catching fire for a brief moment.

Cassandra didn't wait for him to try and get up. She ran to the counter and grabbed a knife off of it. In a flash, she was outside, burying the blade in his chest.

She realized then that she should have checked for others before leaving the house. She looked around, now. There wasn't anyone else. She motioned for Natasha to hurry. The younger girl ran outside, carrying her own knife, and towards the cellar doors. They went down the stairs, Natasha chaining the doors behind them.

The basement was small with shelves all along the walls. The books looked ancient. Some of the shelves held darkened bottles, bowls, mortars and pestles, and several other things that Cassandra couldn't even guess what they were.

Natasha sat down heavily in the center of the room, her head drooping.

"You should join me in the circle. If someone else comes through that door, a spell will trigger. The only people that won't be affected are the ones inside the protection zone."

Cassandra nodded her head and sat down next to Natasha. She cast a side long look at her cousin. There was a thin mark on her neck. Cassandra felt a new wave of guilt wash over her.

"I'm sorry, about that day," she said lamely. Natasha didn't look up. "I was scared and not thinking straight. I didn't mean to hurt you, or scare you."

"Why did you do it? Why were you so afraid?"

Cassandra was quiet. How could she phrase it? "I was raised in the Human Brigade. I was taught that elves, orks, trolls, and dwarves were horrible monsters, baby eaters, rapists. When I started to change, my dad tried to kill me."

Natasha didn't say anything. The only sounds came from outside, gunfire and shouts.

Cassandra constantly looked towards the door, wishing that she could be helping instead of cowering in the basement. The cellar doors began to rattle. Natasha jumped as the wood splintered. The two girls clutched each other as the door before them swung open.

The man was tall, blonde, with piercing blue eyes. His features were square, firm, and yet there was a softness to his mouth and chin. It was her father, about to step into the trap.

"Dad, stop!" she screamed. She leaned forward, her arm out with the palm turned toward him. "It's a trap!"

Kevin froze, his foot about to set down inside of the room. He moved it back outside the door. His eyes narrowed and his lip twisted up into a snarl.

"I should have let Nichole kill you the day you were born," he growled.

Cassandra lowered her arm as her jaw dropped. What was he talking about? "Dad?"

"I'm not your father, bitch."

"But it's me, it's your little Cassie Bear." Cassandra was nearly in tears.

She had known to expect this kind of behavior, but she hadn't expected his words to hurt her so much.

"Cassandra is dead!"

He looked around the room and growled again before leaving. She watched her father's retreating back, tears blurring her vision. There was a hand on her shoulder. Cassandra leaned into Natasha, but fought back the tears.

She wouldn't let his hatred consume her. Never again.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Ten years later

Cassandra peeked over the edge of the building. The street beneath her was strewn with piles of debris, the perfect place for the hell hounds to hide. She grumbled her discontent. It was the third time this week that the Human Brigade had released pests in Horde territory.

"Any sign of them, Smurfette?" a voice crackled in her ear.

"I told you not to call me that," she growled for the millionth time. "Nothing on this end."

A howl rent the air, followed by several others.

"Scratch that. It sounds like they're a block south of me," she corrected herself. "Move in carefully. One of them doesn't sound quite right."

Cassandra moved to the southern edge of the building, gauging the distance to the next roof. She took a few steps back and started running. She jumped just at the edge, flipping her legs up over her head. She landed perfectly on the other roof. She ran and jumped across the rooftops, her black duster flying behind her.

She stopped when she heard the snips and snarls. She crouched low and crept along the roof. Looking over the edge, she could see them below her. It was a pack of seven. More than usual. They were circling another animal. It was another dog, but the face was eerily human. Blood ran through its dark brown coat and over the engorged teets.

"Frag," she swore quietly.

"What is it?" Red asked, sounding anxious.

"Seven hell hounds have a gabriel hound surrounded. It looks like she's probably got a litter somewhere."

Red let his own string of swears out. They could try to save the gabriel hound, but she was just as likely to attack them if she had pups. The hell hounds were circling closer. There wasn't any time to think.

Cassandra took her Guardian pistol and took careful aim at the closest hell hound. She squeezed the trigger. The sound was silenced as the bullet left the chamber. It hit its mark. The hell hound didn't even have time to yelp as the bullet entered its skull.

The others went on instant alert, turning their attention away from their prey. The gabriel hound took the opportunity and lunged at one of the other hounds. It yelped as the gabriel tore its throat out. It kicked against her, but the gabriel clamped its jaws tighter.

Cassandra aimed at another and squeezed the trigger again. The hound moved at the last moment, the bullet clipping its leg. Cassandra swore again as she holstered the weapon. They were starting to swarm the gabriel. She couldn't fire without running the risk of hitting it.

She stood and drew her swords from their back harnesses. She growled as she concentrated on activating the magic within the blades. A chill filled the summer air around her as the blades began to glow blue. She focused her mind and jumped from the roof, which was only three stories up.

The fall was slow, the magic enveloping her and lowering her. She released the spell a couple of feet above the ground, landing smoothly.

The hell hounds still hadn't noticed her. Cassandra rushed in, swinging her left hand sword at the nearest one, the one she had clipped with the bullet. Her sword met with its spine.

The dog howled in pain as it collapsed. The front legs scrambled as it tried to stand. It opened its mouth, sending a wave of flame towards Cassandra. She countered with a mana shield, the flames curving over and around her but not touching her.

When the barrage ended, she kicked the hound in the head. There was a snap as its jaw broke. She followed through with the sword, slicing its head clean off.

Two of the remaining hounds turned their attention to Cassandra, the other two circling the gabriel. One lunged at Cassandra. Before it could get close, a shot rang through the night. Blood spattered from the hound's head as Cassandra stepped to the side, the hound flying harmlessly past her and landing with a thud.

She brought her swords up as the other one started to circle. She made sure to keep it in her sight, along with the other two. Another shot sounded. There was a yelp as another hound stumbled. The gabriel lunged at the injured one as the hound circling Cassandra launched itself into the air.

Cassandra waited until it was closer, then swung her sword. The hound's throat was sliced open. It fell, scrabbling across the ground for a few seconds before becoming still. When she turned back to the gabriel and the other two hounds, she found that one was dead and the other was engaged with the gabriel. Both hounds reared up on their hind legs, each trying to grab the throat of the other.

Cassandra knew better than trying to get between them. She searched for Red. He was on the eastern end of the alley. She kept her distance from the fighting beasts and joined him to watch. The hound tried spitting fire at the gabriel, but it ducked down and rushed the hound. The gabriel opened its maw wide and bit into the hound's underside. The hound screeched in pain as it fell backwards. The gabriel continued the attack, latching onto the hound's neck and swinging its head back and forth.

The hound twitched, then lay still. The gabriel didn't stop immediately. It shook the hound's neck a few more times, then dropped it.

Cassandra and Red stood on guard as the gabriel hound eyed them. She snorted at them, then took off in the opposite direction. The two sighed in relief as they holstered and sheathed their weapons.

The gravel and rocks crunched under running feet heading towards them. Neither bothered turning as the rest of their clean up crew approached.

"About damn time," Red growled, inspecting himself for injury. "We got seven of them. How about you guys?"

Cassandra turned as Knuckles shook his head. "We didn't see anything. Mama did some astral recon. Those hounds were the only things they set loose, this time."

"Good," Cassandra muttered as she started walking toward the opening of the alley. "They're getting bolder. We need to send them a message, let them know that we won't put up with their crap."

Red put his hand on her shoulder, forcing her to stop. Harley and Knuckles exchanged a brief look before going ahead of the two.

"We'll just do a quick sweep," Harley was saying as he walked.

They quickly disappeared around the corner.

Red's hand was still on her shoulder, but Cassandra didn't turn to face him. She knew what he was going to say.

"You know we can't go after them. They're too well organized."

"So we just let them walk all over us?"

Red was silent for a moment. "Are you sure this is about the animals?"

Cassandra could feel her anger welling up at the insinuation. She didn't say anything, though.

"Ever since that day, you've had it in for the Brigade worse than anyone I've ever known. They may hate you, Cassandra, but they're still your family. Natalie told me how you stopped your father from entering the room. I think that deep down, you still love him."

Cassandra pulled away and started walking towards the end of the alley, again. "If I still think of him as a father, then why would I want to initiate an attack that could kill him?"

She could hear his footfalls behind her. He grabbed her arm and spun her around.

"Because of what he said to you, because you're angry at him for abandoning you."

"Or I really do want to see the son of a bitch hanging from a tree by his own guts. Maybe, just maybe, I've gotten past the fact that he was my father. Maybe that day, I opened my eyes to the fact that he's a racist bigot who would love nothing more than to throw rocks at me, humiliate me, tie me down and slowly cut me open. He would, he would…"

It became hard to breath. The world was spinning. She had seen it happen so many times before, when she was a child. The metas would be brought to the center of the neighborhood and tied to a stake. The things they did… and she had helped.

Red was holding her, his strong arms encircling her. He held her for a while, not saying anything. The world stopped spinning. Her breathing returned to normal.

Still he held her.

"I will never let that happen to you," he whispered into her hair. "Now come on. Mama's going to kill me if I don't get you back soon."

Cassandra snorted into his chest. Mama Ork, Theresa, still treated Cassandra like she was thirteen. Of course, she was the only kid left at home.

"I've got to move out," she mumbled. "Need a room mate?"

Red laughed as he turned Cassandra toward the alley opening. Knuckles and Harley were waiting at the van. The two orks smiled as they climbed in. Harley hooked himself up to the rig as Red and Cassandra hopped into the back.

The ride home was fairly calm, though Red and Knuckles did exchange some ruff comments. Cassandra, for the most part, stayed in her own little world. She really did need to move out, she was twenty-three, but she didn't have the money to do it. The gang life didn't really appeal to her. She helped them, sure, but she couldn't bring herself to like it.

Someone had once suggested that she sign on at a corp as a wage mage. His nose was soon broken. Bodyguards were in fairly high demand, but she didn't want to have to move too far away from her family.

She let her gaze drift over to Red. He made a fairly good amount of money. Maybe being a runner was the way to go. She would have to talk to him about it later, when Harley and Knuckles were around to listen in. She had a training session with Red the next day. That would have to do.

It was a hot and humid summer day. The kind that made you want to sit in ice just so you were merely boiling instead of roasting. Cassandra hated training on days like this. She felt sluggish, her rhythm was off. Maybe their conversation would get her out of it.

She went through the gate to the back and down the cellar stairs. Red was already in the Do-jhang warming up. Cassandra set her bag down next to the wall and removed her shoes. Then she bowed and stepped onto the mat.

Never one to beat around the bush, Cassandra started her warm ups as she started talking.

"So, I got to thinking last night. I really do need to find my own place, but I need some money. I was wondering…"

"No."

Cassandra stared at him for a second, one leg lifted up to stretch the muscles in the back of it. "You don't even know what I'm going to ask!"

"Fine. Continue."

"I think that I want to try shadow running. Can you maybe hook me up with your fixer?"

"No."

Cassandra dropped her leg. She could feel the anger welling up, again.

"Why not? I know it's dangerous. I do dangerous work all the time."

"What, hunting the hell hounds that the Brigade so graciously sends us? That's nothing compared to running. Have you ever been in a real fight? You can sling a few spells at some dumb animals, good for you. It's not so easy when your opponent is highly trained, heavily armored, and armed to his teeth with machine guns. Do you know what the life expectancy of a runner is? Ten years."

"You've been running for longer that and you're still fine."

"That's because I played it smart. I started small, honed my skills, and gradually worked up."

"Then you can teach me. The gang life isn't for me, Red. I love Mama, but I don't want to end up like her, a house wife. I know she does important things for the neighborhood, I get that, but I cannot stand the thought of staying home, tending the farm, while the men go out and protect us. You know that's what'll happen if I officially join the gang. And I can't spend the rest of my life living with my grandparents, expecting them to take care of me. I have to do something. So right now, my choices are running or whoring. Which would you rather see me doing?"

Red gritted his teeth as he growled, his forehead furrowed up. He looked like he wanted to strangle her, but Cassandra stood her ground.

Seconds stretched on.

"I'll talk to Axe Monkey," he finally conceded through his teeth.

Cassandra smiled as sweetly as she could with tusks, kissing him lightly on the cheek. "There, was that so hard?"

Red only glared at her.

"So, I suppose you have a lot to do, talking to Axe Monkey and all." She started to back up towards the edge of the mats. "Maybe I'll just get out of your hair, help Mama in the garden."

Red's glare turned into a very menacing grin, an evil glint in his eyes.

"You're not getting out of training that easily, Smurfette. You want to be a runner, you need to start preparing like one. You never know what situations you'll find yourself in. Hell, there may be a job that takes you to a desert. This heat is nothing compared to that."

Cassandra let her head droop in disappointment. She wasn't about to admit it, but he was right. She groaned as she moved back towards the center of the mats and continued limbering up.

The training session was even longer and more intense than usual, probably Red's way of punishing her into changing her mind about running. Cassandra was determined, though. She would become a shadow runner if it was the last thing she did.


End file.
